


Letters

by Merya



Series: Guilt and Solace [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt, Family, Gen, Letters, unestablished relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:30:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merya/pseuds/Merya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>”Lady Trevelyan, may I have a moment?” she asked, her clipped words making her voice sound intimidating. Slowly, Sarah took a step closer to the table, bracing herself.<br/>Josephine's next words hit her like a fist to the stomach, and she found herself reeling, not having enough time to prepare, to find an answer. Never enough time.<br/>”I'd like to discuss your parents.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This little piece takes place in Haven while the inquisition is still settling in it's new role. Sarah hasn't dealt with the whole situation yet and doesn't trust her place in the inquisition. After all - they were ready to kill her just a few months ago.

The sound of rusty hinges drifted down the aisle of the dark chantry, mixing with the silent chanting of the sisters and the dust-streaked rays of light coming from the few coloured windows. Forcing the door completely open Sarah Trevelyan walked purposefully into the office of Josephine Montilyet.

Nodding briefly at the ambassador, Sarah walked up to the elven researcher in the corner, dumping a heavy sack on her table.  
”Special delivery for you Mineave” she said, the smile on her lips interlaced with an almost intangible disgust, probably due to the smell that hung around the bag like a small piece of rotten fade. ”What's left of a rage demon.”

  
Not one to let a little smell throw her off, Minaeve's eyes brightened, and she grabbed the bag with eager hands. ”Thank you Herald, this is the first chance I have to study a rage demon. I shall begin immediately.” She made a casual curtsy while grinning madly, and almost ran from the office, most likely on her way to the study area they had created for her in the chantry's basement. It had been necessary to remove her experiments from the ambassador's office, after an extremely pungent accident with the remains of a lesser terror. No one had been able to enter the office for two days, and Josephine had been furious.

Sarah turned to leave, once again nodding silently in Josephine's direction, but a hand gesture from the ambassador stilled her progress towards the door.

”Lady Trevelyan, may I have a moment?” she asked, her clipped words making her voice sound intimidating.

Slowly, Sarah took a step closer to the table, bracing herself. She tried her best to stay out of the advisors' way, and didn't much like interacting with them. War table discussions often saw her standing in the corner while the advisors argued themselves into a standstill, only voicing an opinion when actively asked to do so. She really didn’t enjoy her encounters with any of the advisors, and the stare that Josephine aimed her way now made her want to squirm. But her noble training held her head high and her voice steady as she answered the antivan woman on the other side of the table.

”Yes ambassador?”

Josephine's next words hit her like a fist to the stomach, and she found herself reeling, not having enough time to prepare, to find an answer. Never enough time.  
”I'd like to discuss your parents.”

”Wha... What?” Sarah's mind was screaming at her to get out, save herself, stop the woman, but Josephine continued talking without even glancing up from her papers.  
”I'd like to send a courier, asking the Banns of house Trevelyan to align themselves with us. What are your thoughts? Should we approach your family for the formal support of the inquisition?”

  
Josephine's writing stilled and she looked expectantly at Sarah who seemed to have frozen to the spot. Her movements seemed sluggish and her eyes were downcast as she slowly shook her head, not daring to look at the woman across from her. Not willing to face the disappointment marring her features.

”No” Sarah said, noting that her voice only shook a little. ”No, you shouldn't reach out to them.” Still shaking her head, she turned on the spot, whispering ”Excuse me” while waving a hand at Josephine. Then she walked through the door and turned down the chantry aisle, head held high, shoulders rigid.

Behind her, Josephine's eyebrows furrowed as she whispered an antivan curse. Then she promptly stood up, walked around the desk and headed towards Leliana's tent, hoping that the raven hadn't been sent off yet.


	2. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She entered Josephine's office with a slight trepidation, absently noting that the hinges didn't creek anymore, stopping in the doorway when she saw the ambassador pacing the floor, nervously wringing her hands.
> 
> ”Oh Good. You're back.” Josephine's voice was high-pitched, her eyes darting between the door and Sarah.
> 
> ”Ambassador – are you quite all right? Should I send for someone?” Sarah took a step forward to support the ambassador as she visibly stumbled.
> 
> ”No no no... Everything is quite all right, it's just... I've got some news.”

Groaning a little as she dismounted from the Forder master Dennet had given her, she was caught off guard as a messenger appeared seemingly out of nowhere. ”Herald! I'm to ask you to come to the ambassador's office as soon as you arrive. There's an important message waiting for you.”

Sarah nodded and the messenger saluted and promptly turned around, most likely reporting back to Josephine. Grabbing her bags and throwing them in the corner she moved to groom her horse, but as she pulled the brush from it's place on the wall, Blackwall grabbed her hand. ”That sounded important Imp – I'll fix the beast for you.”

Sighing, Sarah patted him gratefully on the shoulder, turning towards the town's gates and striding towards the chantry doors and Josephine's office, not relishing the prospect of important news from the ambassador. Whatever it was, it was sure to bring them more problems. Blackwall’s eyes followed her progress, eyebrows furrowed.

She entered Josephine's office with a slight trepidation, absently noting that the hinges didn't creek anymore, stopping in the doorway when she saw the ambassador pacing the floor, nervously wringing her hands.

”Oh Good. You're back.” Josephine's voice was high-pitched, her eyes darting between the door and Sarah.

”Ambassador – are you quite all right? Should I send for someone?” Sarah took a step forward to support the ambassador as she visibly stumbled.

”No no no... Everything is quite all right, it's just... I've got some news.” Josephine stopped in the middle of the floor, drew a deep breath and forced her shoulders and her voice down to their normal level. She turned towards the elven researcher in the corner;

”Minaeve, would you please excuse us?” The slight woman simply nodded, shuffled her papers to the side and promptly left the office, closing the door behind her.

Turning around and reaching towards the table, Josephine's voice was muffled a bit as she sorted through some papers, coming up with a folded letter, wax-seal broken.

”I must apologize to you Lady Trevelyan. I... I didn't mean any offence.” Her voice wavered, as she looked down to the letter in her hands. ”When you first appeared at the temple, you were the sole survivor. And you seemed to possess our only means of closing the rifts. But you... You were also someone's daughter, someone's sister. It was our duty to inform your family of your survival. It was just... We were so busy... Everything was.. Well... You remember.”

Sarah simply nodded, not trusting her voice, gut filled with dread.

”When I asked you last month if we should contact your parents, I asked you because I had already sent a letter informing them of your survival and of your status in the inquisition. I... I should have asked you before I sent the letter. I.. I didn't think... I received their answer while you were away. I... I'm so sorry.”

Having run out of words, Josephine simply handed the letter to Sarah who reached for it with trembling fingers.

Hey eyes refused to work, her father’s spindly handwriting blurring. She had to rub the grit and dirt of the road from them before she could focus on the words.

 

_”To the esteemed Lady Josephine Montilyet, Ambassador to the Inquisition_

_The House of Trevelyan is grateful to you for the information you sent us regarding the explosion at the conclave and the loss of human lives._

_The deaths of divine Justinia, her clerics as well as our beloved youngest son is a tragedy which has touched us deeply, and the House of Trevelyan wishes nothing more than to see the perpetrators brought to justice._

_However, we cannot support your supposed inquisition, while it harbours a chantry-condemned heretic, claiming to be the herald of the blessed Andraste herself._

_The House of Trevelyan does not wish to be associated with said heretic, and I must ask you to not contact us again._

_The House of Trevelyan has no daughter Sarah.”_

 

Swallowing the tears that threatened to fall, Sarah handed the letter back to Josephine. She would not – could not – break. She had known what her mother thought of her, but her father… Her father had always been kinder. She had thought he loved her - in his own way. Her father whom she loved - her father no more. Simon her brother no more. Marjorie her sister no more. And Janus… She shook her head stopping her thoughts, forcing the hollow feeling in her heart away. Locked behind imaginary walls.  

Looking up from the letter, she felt more than saw Josephine’s gaze and how it was filled with… pity? She shrugged.

“I never did have a good relationship with my family.” One corner of her mind was proud that she sounded like the professional through and through. It wouldn’t do to break down in front of the ambassador. “I can’t say as I’m surprised.” She managed a small crooked smile, “maybe this will even save us some work fending off greedy distant relatives.”

Handing the letter back to Josephine her fingers slipped on the parchment as Josephine tugged on it lightly. As it drifted slowly to the floor, the specks of dust in the air whirled around it, drawing it into a maelstrom of grey, memories sinking beneath the surface. Josephine bent to retrieve it, but the herald’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. “Leave it - that might be the best place for it. Now, ambassador, was there anything else you wished to discuss with me?”

“No Lady Trevelyan, this was all” Josephine’s smile didn’t reach her brown eyes, and her voice sounded more forced than relieved. Sarah shook her head, a steely look in her eyes, her narrow lips pulled into a tight line.

“Ah, but you forget, Lady Montilyet. I am lady Trevelyan no more. Sarah will do.” And with that she turned around, opening the door and walked into the chantry, leaving a flustered Josephine behind her.

As she walked through the chantry she focused on gathering her title around her as a shield. A Trevelyan no longer, she was still Sarah - Herald of Andraste, and by the maker - that would be enough! She would not break. She would close the breach. She would be the Herald that they all thought she was, and she fully suspected that in the end - that title would kill her.

She didn’t see the look of concern that crossed the ambassador’s face as she bent to pick up the now dusty parchment, placing it in a drawer. She didn’t see the anger emanating from the usually controlled Josephine as she sat behind her desk and began to write in a beautiful and measured script:

_“To the esteemed Banns of Trevelyan, Ronald and Margareth Trevelyan from  Lady Josephine Cherette Montilyet, Chief ambassador and Diplomat to the Inquisition._

_My dear Lord and Lady…”_

Josephine looked briefly to the ceiling to calm her temper, then she bent over the parchment once again, the quill flying, her anger flowing through the diplomacy she knew so intricately. The smile she wore was a cruel one, and no one who knew Josephine intimately, would doubt her endeavour. The Banns of Trevelyan wouldn’t know what hit them.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm imagining Josephine can be quite frightening when she's angry. Wouldn't want to cross her.  
> \---
> 
> Thanks for reading - have some cake on your way out.   
> If you enjoyed my story - please let me know.   
> I'm always happy recieving suggestions and constructive criticism.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think - comments are my drug. ;-)


End file.
